Calculations
by FailingDemi
Summary: [ONESHOT] Kyouya was too used to calculating stuff, but several things turned out to be unpredictable. Things such as thunder and Haruhi. Light Fluff. HaruKyou


Ohtori Kyouya was not one to guess, he was all about calculating. He liked to be precise…exact. Things always had a cause; there was nothing that couldn't be predicted. That was his theory anyways. Kyouya led a life of calculations.

How boring is THAT?

It was probably because he could _control _almost everything that was put in his hands, could he even believe in that theory. Some things can be controlled with precise thinking and sly actions. Sometimes, one would even think of Ohtori Kyouya…

Was God.

* * *

Kyouya stood alone outside of the hallways of Ouran. He was wearing a brown coat over his blazer, hands stuffed inside of his pockets for warmth. Every so often, wind would come and toss at his black hair and nip at his face.

Fall sucked.

Kyouya agreed.

Seasons were something that couldn't be changed on his whim. It could be predicted of course, but can't change. His raven eyes narrowed as the last leaf on a bare tree floated onto the heap of autumnal colors.

His normal day at Ouran has ended, Host Club activities had ended just recently, and only he was left on the campus. Could anything be more peaceful than this? Tamaki, his best friend, had just recently given his daily head ache. The twins had just pulled a prank on him, (the daring devils), and he had them punished (with what better ways than clean the cafeteria?).

Honey, the usual energetic sweet-loving senior, had ordered a million of cake imported directly from France with Tamaki's say-so and without Kyouya knowing. Ordering cake and whatever, had lowered the profit.

How depressing.

Mori was okay, he hadn't given any problems, except he accidentally cracked a door, to Kyouya at all, except the door, and there hadn't been anything that was screaming 'GIVE KYOUYA A HEADACHE', which included the door.

The Host Club gave him trouble; his head was pounding with a head ache…

The second-year student sat down onto the marble floor that had jutted up at least five inches from the wet cool earth. He wondered even why he had stayed so long with the Host Club and why he kept doing it.

Calculations…weren't fun anymore.

He had done it before that idiot blonde, and it was boring. Writing math equations constantly into notebooks when he had free time, that was starting to bore him. Kyouya wanted to look for new excitement.

That was when the Host Club came in. Keeping the finances and income in check was like another game of calculating. He couldn't say he enjoyed it…but he couldn't say he hated it. But…now these days…things gotten boring.

Kyouya blinked as a whirlwind of leaves picked up and flew into the air. It was autumn and THAT time of the seasons. He hated it; sometimes he wished that autumn never existed. The wind, the weather, the storms, and the-

_Achoo! _

Kyouya sniffed, rubbing his nose with the back of his wind-nipped hand. Yes…cold weather equals slight fever. Only slight. That was what Kyouya was telling himself anyways. Rubbing his hands together, he decided to return the heat to his cold chilled hands.

"I hate autumn," was all that escaped from the cool-type as the wind continued howling against the sky. His raven orbs wandered above, it was looming with black clouds. The wind blew at him, it seemed to be laughing at him for all he's worth.

"Oh, Kyouya-sempai, you didn't go home yet?"

Kyouya's eyes slowly wandered to the person who was standing on the marble pathway. "Actually…I have been waiting for you, Haruhi."

She blinked her chocolate colored eyes. "Why's that?"

He stood up and his glasses glinted in an ominous way that made the girl shudder, and that wasn't because of the wind. "Because it's the beginning of this month, I'll give you your stats of how much you have made at the Club. Or would you rather go home…" His eyes flashed towards the dark clouds. "And I'll give it to you tomorrow?"

Haruhi took note of the direction where his eyes were pointing at. A thunderstorm would brew and hit full possibly tonight. She gave a gulp and returned her gaze towards the solemn boy before her. "That…would be alright! Otousan isn't going to come back home until…" Haruhi paused. "…tomorrow."

Kyouya blinked. No duh was she scared, her eyes were practically begging for him to take her to his place to give her the printed documents. He really couldn't leave a girl there facing the thunderstorm alone…now can he?

"We should get going, the sooner the better," he said, turning on his heels. Kyouya motioned her to follow, and they silently walked towards the gate entrance.

He hadn't mentioned the thunderstorm, but just knew. Haruhi knew that he wouldn't easily open quickly to people, but according to some of his bodyguards, Kyouya had made quite the progress with the Host Club. Just a simple act of thoughtfulness was enough to tell that he was a kind person deep down. And-

_Achoo! _

Damn the fall.

"Are you…sick, sempai?"

Kyouya absently rubbed his red nose, and frowned at the wind. "It's only a minor fever, nothing to be afraid of."

There was a limousine parked right outside the gates, a chauffer and several men in black who obviously served under Kyouya stood by. He sniffed slightly and only nodded faintly to the men, before they sat inside.

"Kyouya-sama, ready for departure?"

"Yes," he only muttered, as they were seated inside of the limo. The car itself was extravagant, rich people traveled in style. Haruhi had to bite back her tongue from saying 'Rich Bastards'. Even though the warm air conditioner was on, Kyouya couldn't help but wrap his scarf a little tighter around his neck.

Fall was the most hated time of year, where the wind blew harshly and he caught a cold. But it was nothing, Kyouya told himself, even though his runny and stuffy nose, head ache, sore throat, and blurry vision said otherwise.

"How was school, Kyouya-sama?" a man dare to ask to lighten up the mood. Kyouya blinked and diverted his gaze out the window.

"Fine."

"Did you learn anything interesting?"

"Always."

"How about the Host Club?"

"Doing great."

The men held in a sigh. Ohtori Kyouya was cold as always. Always precise and picky of his words and never pass the ten word quota except when giving orders. How sad, how truly sad.

They chanced to look at Haruhi. They had heard of her before, how Kyouya was always keeping her debt in check and how he was being a sadist and kept adding, subtracting, halving, cutting her debt into complicated forms.

And they all knew that their young master harbors feelings for her. It was so obvious, even though he tries to be unreadable as always. The men in black suits just knew that she was the only GIRL who he opened slightly to. If this keeps going, they won't have to worry about their master not being able to find a woman.

And the men think that they have nothing to worry about.

_Achoo! _

Except that damn cold of his…

* * *

"Make yourself comfortable," Kyouya muttered before sniffing. He walked into a large room that were filled with machinery and instantly strolled over to a large computer. Haruhi followed after and stared at the many computer parts and whatever they were laying around the area.

She plopped on a sofa and then glanced out the window. The thunderstorm was traveling closer and a faint drizzle had already started. Haruhi gulped and then looked at Kyouya. He's there and won't leave me alone, Haruhi thought.

The computer screen slowly whizzed into different windows, long text scrolled down the screen, Kyouya's black orbs lazily flitted over the words. If the words weren't giving him a migraine his head was.

In a swift movement, Kyouya's fingers expertly pounded several more additional notes to the text. He ended it all with a click on: Ctrl P.

It was just a boring job of printing papers for Haruhi, and they had absolutely nothing to talk about. The raven-haired boy slowly walked over to the couch where the brunette was sitting on and sat down with a plop.

The rain started to pound hard against the windows and the dark sky had flickered slightly. Very soon there would be a sudden crash of thunder. Haruhi was expecting it, and would try her best to fight it. Trying to ignore a very soft rumble of thunder, Haruhi turned to look at the teenager sitting two feet away from her.

"Kyouya-sempai, are you sure you're fine? You seem to be very…sick."

"Do I?" he said, his throat scratched from coughing the night before. She examined his pitiful form. His eyes were half-lidded, his nose was red, his face was entirely heated, and he looked like he was half-dead. Her hand traveled to his forehead and lingered there before it dropped down.

"You have a fever!" she exclaimed, immediately jumping up from the couch. Kyouya blinked in confusion, but he didn't say anything. "How long have you been sick, Kyouya-sempai?"

He looked up dazedly and tried to muster a thought from his pounding brain. "…I haven't really…thought…"

"You really have a fever. A high one too," Haruhi said worriedly, putting a hand on his head. Her other hand cupped his cheek. "You're cold-! Oh god, Kyouya-sempai, stay here and I'll try find medicine for you-"

BOOM

She froze, a hand quickly snagged her wrist and pulled her down onto the couch. "There's a storm, you aren't going," a voice in her ear croaked. His head was burning, but he found it that it'd be better for him to die of fever than for Haruhi to suffer the thunderstorm alone.

"But…fever-"

BOOM

Haruhi flinched, and started to shiver in fear. She hid her face into his brown sweater and tried her best to block out the storm that was raging outside. Kyouya's head was throbbing with pain and the thunder was making it all worse.

With every crack of thunder, he could feel his head give a painful jolt. But that wasn't what was on hand. Haruhi was afraid of thunder, that he can't possibly leave and get himself some medicine.

Kyouya wrapped an arm around her and patted her back for comfort. He was never one who could successfully comfort anyone; Kyouya was an anti-social person. Being a host hadn't taught him how to be a warming person, but his presence was all that Haruhi needed.

He needed to say something to lighten up the mode, inner Kyouya was saying so. Lighten the mode! Lighten the mode! Sometimes the raven-eyed boy wished he was at least a bit more open in expressing his feelings.

"Haruhi…" he started, sadly he didn't know how to continue. "Your stats are done printing."

What a very stupid thing to say.

And AT THIS time too.

Kyouya opted to shut up for the time being. Besides, the pounding of the rain against the windows were starting to lull him into sleep. He shook his head in attempt to shake off the sleepiness. No, he can't fall asleep, Haruhi needed to have some comfort.

And comfort does not sleep in dire situations.

Haruhi stopped shaking and felt very secure in her upperclassman's arms. As long as someone was going through it with her, she was fine. Her eyes felt heavy and slowly the sound of rain lulled her to sleep on Kyouya's shoulder. The smell on the sweater also played a part of bringing her into deep slumber. Indeed it smelled like a sick person, but it had this mint crisp smell to it.

And she fell asleep.

Kyouya's head was reacting to every thunder clap, and it was much more painful. The pain was throbbing harshly that the Ohtori couldn't help but grow numb and drift into an unconscious state, his head resting on Haruhi's mass of brown hair.

Thunderstorms couldn't be calculated, Kyouya noticed. Fevers and cold slip by without him noticing at all. In these circumstances…Kyouya wasn't the one in control like everyone thought he could be. Not now anyways…

Kyouya absently pulled the girl in his arms into a closer embrace, and nuzzled into her brown hair.

But in these circumstances, Kyouya is actually glad that things take a change. Things can happen unpredictably and that was what catch Kyouya in surprise. He hated surprises but sometimes they can be fairly enjoyable.

That is…

If it was with Haruhi…she can be unpredictable at times. As the couple continued to sleep, each within their embrace…

Some sobbing men in black peek through the door…

Crying silently into handkerchiefs…

_'Our little Kyouya-sama has grown up!'_


End file.
